


Zipper

by hgdoghouse



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:57:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hgdoghouse/pseuds/hgdoghouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What the hell an over-weight flasher carrying an offensive weapon has to do with love is beyond me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zipper

What the hell an over-weight flasher carrying an offensive weapon has to do with love is beyond me. I mean, who needs a fucking arrow in their heart - or to find themselves trapped before it stops thrumming?

I can’t say it did much for me.

It was the timing that got up my nose the most; there was no warning - no nothing, in fact. There was I, five past six in the morning, minding my own business while Bodie took over at the camera. We were on one of the most boring obbo jobs it’s ever been my misfortune to be assigned. He walks past me, turned to say something and that’s it, I was a goner.

There was a moment when I hoped I was dreaming. I ask you, why of all people in the world did it have to be Bodie? Unfair I call it. Sneaky.

By ten past six I was getting turned on something chronic by nothing more than him fidgeting on a camp stool - appropriate that, in the circumstances - and moaning about how hungry he was.

So was I.

I couldn’t understand it. He wasn’t even looking that great - not as good as he can look, at any rate. He was wearing that rust-coloured disaster area he calls a shirt, brown cords and that reversible cord jacket. Nothing I hadn’t seen him in before - or out of.

That did it, of course.

A psychiatrist would probably call that yearning after the unobtainable something else entirely. Who cares? They’ve got a living to make, the same as the rest of us. So long as they don’t try to make it from me or mine they’re welcome.

By twenty past six I was beginning to panic. By twenty five past I just knew I had to have him.

Or he could have me.

The conversation petered out about then, although I knew I hadn’t been holding my end up for some time - I wouldn’t have minded trying through. That was the trouble. I was watching Bodie sit there doing nothing more exciting than breathing and I was so turned on I could hardly see straight.

Though I suppose the word ‘straight’ won’t be cropping up much from now on.

Bodie half-turned and gave me this odd look before he went back to concentrating on the house opposite. It had the advantage that I could concentrate on him. I concentrated so hard I didn’t hear our relief team arrive. Still, it meant I missed all the enlivening backchat which goes with a change-over so maybe every cloud does have a silver lining.

Even the news that Cowley wanted to see us couldn’t sober me up.

When I walked into Bodie just outside the Cow’s office at quarter past seven I couldn’t think of a single excuse. Which isn’t at all typical. There again, I’m not given to tripping over my own feet or dribbling, and I couldn’t swear I hadn’t been guilty of both. As it was, I just caught hold of him and forgot to let go. It didn’t help matters when I felt the heat rising and a stupid grin spreading. I hadn’t blushed since I had that trouble with Durex my first time out.

Then, as now, it was probably hysteria.

I didn’t think Bodie _could_ blush. Then I realized that embarrassment wasn’t his problem.

I could have taken him for a quick knee-trembler there and then. Luckily - well, I suppose it was - the Cow came out of his room. He gave us a rollicking, I can’t remember what about. It can’t have been that important. All that was important was standing next to me, all drooping eyelids and beard stubble. I wanted that mouth something fierce.

Promised myself I was going to eat Bodie alive.

In the event I didn’t get him to myself until twenty to nine. Well, to be more accurate, he got me. By the zipper of my fly. He had it open before my jaw had time to drop. Bodie always has been a quick worker - though he’s proved he knows how to take it slow, too.

Mind, I can’t pretend he didn’t have some cooperation. We’ve always been a good team.

It was better when we finally made it to bed. We’d lost that first desperate edge and spent some time on each other, learning each other. Loving each other.

It took me a while to get used to the idea of that. It must’ve been all of nine o’clock. Just before Bodie mumbled into my neck.

The silver-tongued cretin. Of course I knew. Still, no harm in letting him know he wasn’t the only idiot.

We haven’t looked back since then. It’s our second anniversary today. We even had a chance to spend it together. Cowley must be slipping. I had a rush of blood to the head and bought Bodie that video camera he’s been after. As for Bodie - The crazy bugger only went and got me this chain with a half-open zipper hanging from it. Made of platinum.

It’s beautiful. I dunno where he thinks I’m gonna wear it though. No, scrap that, I know _exactly_ where he thinks he’s going to persuade me to wear it. I probably will, too.

Mad he is, spending all his savings that way. He just said he thought I was worth more than gold.

What would you do with him?

So I didn’t complain too much when he fixed up a remote control button on that video camera. It’ll give us something to watch thirty years from now.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Written 1987


End file.
